Yes, He's Different, but I Wouldn't Change Him for the World
by DwaejiTokki
Summary: Henry has to make one of the most difficult choices in his life. To buy Shawn the doll, or not to buy Shawn the doll? Oneshot. Complete.


Yes, He's Different, but I Wouldn't Change Him for the World

 **Summary** : Henry has to make one of the most difficult choices in his life. To buy Shawn the doll, or not to buy Shawn the doll? Oneshot. Complete.

 **Rating** : K+

 **Disclaimer** : I actually can't think of anything remotely funny this time around, so I'll just come out and say that I don't own _Psych_ or its characters.

"Son," Henry growled, snatching the pink box from his five year old's hands and shelving it again, "I am not buying you a Barbie doll."

"But Dad," Shawn whined, looking up at Henry imploringly. "Me and Gus need dem so dat our warr'ors can safe dem! Just like in de moofies!"

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing Shawn weren't so adamant and stubborn. If Maddy found out about this, he could be damn sure that she'd support and even encourage Shawn to step outside gender roles. It was one thing for Shawn to participate in his cousins' games of house - he was always made to play the father, and Shawn simply mimicked Henry in that regard - but to play with dolls?

"Why don't Gus' parents by him the doll?" Henry asked, almost petulantly.

Shawn rolled his eyes and answered matter-of-factly, "We use his sister's dolls, but only when she _says_ it's okay. But Dad, I don't _have_ a sister, so dat's why we need dem at our house. For the warr'ors, Dad!"

Not for the first nor last time, Henry severely wished that Maddy had not had her miscarriage three years previously. Having Shawn had been a miracle in itself, though, after two and half years of trying, testing, and trying again. So Henry shouldn't complain, really.

Maybe they could adopt.

But no, that couldn't be wise. Not with Shawn being the handful he was. Though Shawn was gifted and understood things extremely easily, somehow it only made it more difficult to raise him. In Henry's opinion, anyway. Maddy, as a psychiatrist, always had a field day when it was her turn to watch her little goose.

They both knew that Shawn was going to be different from the minute they discovered Maddy was pregnant.

The circumstances surrounding his conception, his thirty-five week neonatal development, and his complicated birth were enough proof of that. Because he was born prematurely, in his first few days of life Shawn was kept under close monitorization, and yet the baby managed to catch pneumonia, anyway. That was when Henry knew the kid would be trouble. After a few weeks, Shawn was cleared to come home, and he had wasted no time in showing his parents just how different he was.

At first they had feared there was something wrong with his eyes.

Shawn stared off and away from his parent's faces, only really paying attention to them when they made noises at him. He rarely cried, which was more disconcerting than it was a relief. After multiple trips to several doctors for second, third, and fourth opinions, they finally concluded that Shawn's brain was fully functional, as were all the other parts of his body. Shawn was exceptionally healthy for a preemie.

He was just different.

It wasn't until Shawn had nearly reached the one year marker that he had become extremely vocal. While the first few months of his life he had been quiet and curious, as he progressed mentally and physically and was rewarded when he squealed and gurgled and pushed and pulled things, Shawn became increasingly loud and active.

Soon enough, he was never quiet or still.

Shawn's differences became apparent in other ways as well.

When playing with building blocks, Shawn's color coordination and tower balancing rivaled children in preschool - and their son was less than two. He also seemed to understand more than the basic 'no' and 'bye bye' and 'go to sleep' phrases. He parroted words and melodies and sounds, sometimes days after he heard it.

Henry had been a little alarmed by his son's behavior, but Maddy reminded him that it was entirely possible that Shawn had inherited her eidetic memory, and that was the end of that.

For a while, at least.

When they picked up Shawn from his third week at daycare, they had been informed that while Shawn was extraordinary, he was not engaging with the other children and sometimes played with toys in odd ways. For instance, she had explained, rather than pretending to eat with a toy fork, he had used it as a soldier in his game of war. The caretaker gently suggested that Shawn be tested for autism.

Fearing the worst, Henry and Maddy took Shawn to the best specialist in Santa Barbara.

It turned out that no, Shawn was not autistic. He did not operate on the same level as the other children, and thus could not connect with them. Shawn simply did not _want_ to play with the other children.

Flabbergasted by the doctor's explanation, Henry demanded how he could have possibly known that. The doctor merely smiled patiently and turned to Shawn, who was held in his mother's arms.

"Shawn, why don't you play with the other kids?"

"No," he replied, gazing back at the doctor with utmost solemnity. "Don't wanna." Then he returned to ferociously shaking his father's key ring, occasionally stopping to study it for changes.

After complimenting the Spencers on their son's amazing intelligence, the doctor tended to other patients. Henry and Maddy took their son home.

And that was the beginning of the playdates.

Maddy hung around Shawn's daycare like a hawk, descending upon unsuspecting parents as they picked up their children and asking if they'd like to set up dates for their children to spend time together. Some reluctantly agreed, rather taken aback by the enthusiasm.

But whenever Shawn was given one-on-one time with a child his age, and some even older than him, he ignored them. Despite his mother's prompting to play, Shawn would quickly grow bored and wander off to play on his own, much to his parents' lament.

Maddy had all but given up.

And then the Gusters had moved into the neighborhood. The Spencers, being friendly (under Maddy's stern orders as she baked a pie), went to greet and welcome them. The Gusters, a religious family with one child and another on the way, were pleasantly surprised.

The Spencers were invited into the house to get to know one another, and Maddy was quick to accept. Shawn was set down in Gus' playpen, and the adults went to talk in the kitchen area. Maddy crossed her fingers.

Not ten minutes later, Shawn toddled into the kitchen with Gus crawling behind him.

"Heaven on earth!" Winnie Guster had exclaimed. She immediately turned an accusing gaze on her husband. "Did you set the playpen up right?"

"Of course I did," he replied, scooping up his son as he giggled.

Maddy had knelt and picked up Shawn, looking through the kitchen doorway to the living room, where the boys had been left. The playpen was exactly how they had left it, and the parents curiously put them back in it, then hid to watch.

For a moment, Gus and Shawn sat quietly, flipping through one of the baby books that had been left to occupy them. Then Gus pulled himself up and maneuvered himself to the corner closest to the couch, cooing loudly. Shawn sat down beneath him and pushed him up and out of the playpen, sending the younger baby sprawling onto the couch cushions. A moment later, Shawn had hoisted himself out of the pen and joined his new friend.

Their parents looked on in shock.

Playdates had been arranged, thanks to Maddy. Henry wasn't, for once, begrudging. If Shawn made a friend, it was all the better for his development, as far as he was concerned. He could only hope that as he grew older...Well, he could hope a lot of things.

Gus and Shawn quickly became inseparable in a way that was almost comical. But it was mostly endearing. The boys shared everything - played together, ate together, and even potty-trained together. That last one wasn't Henry's doing, though.

And now, two years later, Gus and Shawn apparently wanted to play with dolls.

Maybe Henry could convince his son that dolls were lame. "Shawn, listen -"

"Dad! Dis one, dis one!"

As Henry had tried to form an argument his five year old would understand, Shawn had procured another Barbie doll - this one a brunette. Great, now his son had a preference.

"Dolls are for girls, Shawn," he tried weakly. He sincerely hoped that Shawn didn't repeat that line to his mother. She would have it out for Henry if she found out.

"Oh," Shawn said, looking down at the boxed doll sadly. But then his face lit up again. "I know! We can _pretend_ dat I'm a grill, Dad!"

Henry wanted to cry.

For one thing, although he was a manly man and would never admit it aloud, his son was absolutely adorable. And for another, his adorable _son_ was insistent upon getting a doll, of all things.

It was time to bargain.

"Shawn," Henry said, "I will buy you another warrior."

Shawn's pleasant surprise served to widen his eyes and smile.

"But," Henry held up a finger, "you have to choose between the warrior and the doll. One or the other, not both."

The boy's shoulders slumped a little, but he still smiled as he proffered the doll to his father. "Doll," he said with finality.

And then there was nothing Henry could do. It was over.

He had to buy the doll.

With a long-suffering sigh, Henry led Shawn out of the toy section, pushing their cart full of groceries. The woman at the cashier made sure that Shawn knew how cute he was as she bagged their foodstuffs. Shawn beamed, clinging to the edge of the conveyor belt to pull himself up, thus giving her a better view of him. Henry just resisted rolling his eyes at his son's attention-loving antics.

"Oh, a Barbie," the woman, Jill if her nametag was anything to go by, said. She bagged it. "Is it a present for your sister? Or is it for another girl, hm?"

"No," Shawn replied, puffing his tiny chest out proudly. "It's _my_ doll!"

Jill blinked, a bit taken aback, and then looked to Henry as though to confirm it. Henry merely raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh," she said, forcing another smile. Henry didn't need to be a trained detective to see that she was disapproving, and that her enthusiasm to spoil his son had all but disappeared.

He paid for his groceries and Shawn's new toy.

"He needs a wife for his warriors," Henry explained gruffly, fishing the doll out of the bag and giving it to his grabby, overexcited child.

Without sparing the woman another glance he grabbed his bags and began to herd Shawn out of the store. But then he stopped and turned back, lifting his chin.

He added, "Even if my kid just wanted the doll so he could brush its hair and have tea parties with it, that's fine by me. I love him no matter what he likes."

Henry paused only long enough to see Jill's cheeks tinge pink, then followed his son out of the sliding doors, where he was already waiting by the truck, bouncing on his feet. Watching Shawn as he approached, he noticed the way Shawn was grinning and looking at his new doll like it was the best thing in the world.

No, Henry wouldn't care. Shawn was different, and that was okay.

"And I wouldn't change you for the world, kid," Henry announced as he hoisted the groceries into the bed of the truck.

If Shawn had heard his father, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he began to gush about all the escapades the newlyweds would get into, and asked if Henry would open the box, and if he thought Gus would be jealous, and on and on and on until Henry was sick of it and wished it was socially acceptable to duct tape a child's mouth shut.

END.

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading!


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